


Home

by Cornbread5287



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Rickyl Writers' Group Bingo 2016, rwg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6028537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornbread5287/pseuds/Cornbread5287
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl has never had a home.<br/>Until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my Bingo Challenge from the Rickyl Writers Group. The challenge was "Song title of your choice" so I chose Home by Phillip Phillips. Hope you enjoy!

When Daryl was a baby, he lived in a single-wide trailer in the middle of nowhere with his parents and his brother. At the age of seven, the four took their meager belongings and moved into a “house” that was little more than a shack with running water. After it burned down with his mother inside, Daryl, Merle, and their father ended up in a cabin in the woods. The drafty windows and rotting wood kept the rain off their backs until Daryl’s father died years later. Merle and Daryl stayed at the cabin for a while after that, but when Merle got locked up again, Daryl left. He lived with one of Merle’s friends for a month or so, rented a hotel room for an entire summer, and eventually ended up in a rundown, one-bedroom apartment, that also housed Merle when he was released. When the dead started rising to eat the living, Daryl lived wherever was safest; in cars, in tents, in an RV, on the road, and eventually in Alexandria.

He’d lived many places, but never in his life did Daryl have a home.

That is, until Rick showed him what _home_ truly meant.

///////

“Hey,” Rick said, hopping up the steps and walking over to where Daryl was leaned up against the railing. He hadn’t moved since Rick had left that morning; he’d spent the day cleaning his crossbow and glaring at everyone who passed the house.

He grunted in response, and Rick sat on the porch rail beside him, his thigh brushing Daryl’s arm. “You been out here all day? You know the houses have air conditioning. And showers,” he added, looking pointedly at Daryl’s filthy arm. Daryl shook his head.

Rick hopped down off the railing and stepped in front of Daryl. Daryl glanced around, but there was nobody to be seen; the sun was starting to go down, and somebody was having yet another _get together_ tonight. He and Rick were alone.

“Hey,” Rick said softly. He waited for Daryl to look at him, then said “This could be a home for us. I didn’t think so at first but….I think it could be.”

“Don’t know what a home is,” Daryl grunted. “Don’t think there’s no such thing. Just places you sleep.”

Rick stepped closer, invading Daryl’s space, making him straighten his back. His eyes were dark and hooded, his face so close to Daryl’s he could feel Rick’s breath on his own chin.

“Do you… do you want me to _show_ you what home means?” he breathed, looking Daryl in the eye.

Daryl looked at Rick, _really_ looked at him; his newly trimmed curls and freshly shaved baby-face. He peered into Rick’s eyes, trying to figure out the emotion in them. Rick was looking back, waiting for Daryl’s answer, but Daryl’s voice seemed to have run away with Daryl’s fast-beating heart.

So Daryl just nodded.

Rick’s breathing hitched; he stepped even closer to Daryl, their thighs and chests pressed together, causing Daryl’s body to tense instinctively. Rick put his hand on Daryl’s chest lightly, rubbing up and down to soothe him. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Daryl’s gently.

Daryl closed his eyes and held his breath. Rick’s lips started moving, slowly at first but gaining speed and rhythm quickly. Daryl kissed him back, finally letting his breath out in a little sigh that Rick swallowed. He slid his hand up from the hunter’s chest to his hair, his other hand coming to rest on Daryl’s hip.

Daryl threaded both his hands into Rick’s hair, gripping the short curls almost painfully as Rick licked at the other man’s lips, requesting entrance. Daryl obliged, moaning softly into Rick’s mouth. Rick put his foot in between Daryl’s, kicking his boots apart so that he could fit himself in between Daryl’s legs. Daryl let him, pressing himself into Rick as the man worked his way away from Daryl’s lips, running his tongue along Daryl’s jaw and down to his neck. Daryl threw his head back, panting, as Rick pulled his shirt down just enough to expose Daryl’s collarbone. Rick sucked and bit at the salty skin there, marking Daryl so that he wouldn’t forget what Rick was trying to show him.

Once the offending spot was sufficiently bruised, Rick pulled back to look at his hunter, sliding his arms around Daryl and keeping their bodies pressed together. Daryl’s eyes were closed, his head tilted back, his breathing shallow.

“Daryl?” Rick asked, slightly panicky. He started to step back, but Daryl’s fingers tightened in his hair.

“Don’t,” Daryl said, his voice cracking. He finally opened his eyes and looked at Rick, and Rick nearly died right there because Daryl Dixon was holding back tears.

“Daryl, I didn’t mean-“

“Don’t apologize, Rick. You… you just gave me everything I’ve ever wanted,” he said, his voice wrecked. He blinked, and a single tear escaped and rolled slowly down his face.

“You just made this place my home.”


End file.
